"Keith Fenwick - Skid 02 - Skid 2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fenwick Keith)

clearly been disturbed about something.
Raele had been anticipating the forthcoming mission in the unaccustomed
luxury of a long range patrol craft. He didn't recognise Inel's obvious
discomfort for what it was until they were well under way on their mission. He
had been far too busy contemplating, with a rising sense of anticipation the
delights of unlimited food and agbar supplies and other luxuries now in
unbelievably short supply on Skid. Not forgetting certain other 'comforts'
reserved for long distance space travellers in case they were stranded out of
reach of a service crew.
Crashing anywhere was an unlikely event for a Skidian craft, created as
they were by the most sophisticated beings in the known universe. Raele
thought it more likely that the presence of females aboard was a transparent
ruse to keep them from straying from their appointed tasks.
Recreational sex was unheard of on Skid, Raele didn't even know such
delights existed until he first experienced the rites of new patrol pilot.
Since then his whole life had revolved around the pleasures of the flesh and
counting down to his next space patrol.
Speaking of comforts, Raele turned over and looked at the female lying
beside him, compared her smooth white skin with the offworld female they had
recently despatched. Quite sometime ago now, Raele thought guiltily.
The communication channel had been open for days, Raele had been hoping
that there would be some kind of traffic, some message waiting for him
ordering him home. There had been nothing.
Nor was there any traffic on the channels that should have been busy
with chatter from short range patrol and freighter traffic.
Raele's stomach was upset, he felt generally irritable which was itself
unusual for a Skidian which was probably why the others had been avoiding him.
Worry was beginning to gnaw at him like a live thing. Anxiety caused by the
realisation that he was going to have to make a decision himself. For some
unknown reason those that should be relieving him of this irksome burden
seemed to have disappeared.
There were other patrol craft, on missions like his probing further and
further into the universe and dealing with potential threats to Skid's
security. Or merely watching over primitive planets like the offworlder's that
were as yet no threat to Skid's security. Raele wondered what their crews were
thinking, whether they were as bemused as he at the lack of communication from
Skid, if they were still alive.
Raele rolled off the bed and wandered through to the control room to
check the communication's channel once again. He scrolled through the log,
still nothing. He entered a message and waited for a reply. Nothing answered
except the whisper of the universe through the speaker. He checked the
scanners as they were close enough to Skid that they should be picking up
local traffic.
Nothing.
Reale's finger hovered over the console. Over the switch that would tell
the autopilot to bring them to the space port at Sietnuoc in a few short
hours.
Raele knew something was dreadfully wrong. But what could possibly be
wrong? He pressed the switch and was relieved to hear the quiet beep that told
him that the homing beacon was operating.